Assassins Creed: Wounded
by ProjectRekal
Summary: The Rooks-a now formiddable force in the city of London, much to Evie's dislike. Her sibling was out there on the streets, doing good...in a different way. Even she would admit. Jacob's actions since his arrival in London have drawn much attention...too much attention. That attention may get him killed...
1. Chapter 1

Throwing his fist out he cracked the Blighter in the jaw sending the man crashing back into a number of unused crates. They crackled, buckled and splintered. Jacob ducked low as another man attempted to grab him. Swinging his fist the Rook caught the man's abdomen, causing his attacker to double over. Now was his chance. Grasping the back of the man's head Jacob slammed his knee upward into the man's nose. There was a loud snap as bone was shattered and broken. Jacob let a small cry of glee escape him. The man flopped down next to his blighter brother who was already squealing in pain. Jacob stood, turned and looked over his shoulder to Andy. The bull of a man was, in that moment, busy upturning a barrel and cracking it down over another of the Blighter gang members. It shattered upon impact with the brawler. Andy gave an elated cry of pleasure.

"Worthless shit!" Andy growled before hocking and spitting on the unconscious man. Andy himself was a beast. Tall, broad with the build of an unmovable ox all caged in a flannel shirt and vest. His head was balding and glinted in the afternoon light, a faint shadow of stubble coated his absurdly square lower jaw.

"Alright lads?" Jacob called loudly. From the second story of the ram shackled house Will's head appeared out one of the windows. Jacob shot his eyes up to the man above him. The day was drawing to its close, the sun bathed the battered walls of White Chapel in a dusky orange glow. The City of London was drawing to a close for the day, the beginning of its night was only just the beginning. The wenches would wonder from their hovels, men would slink straight from their mindless labours of the day and into the clutches of the awaiting women. Jacob tipped his top hat to Will, the man nodded and saluted before disappearing from view back through the window of the home a number of hard clatters following. Jacob turned nodding to Andy before both spun and charged another two awaiting Blighters.

"Give us a hand," Jacob nodded. Andy smirked, lengthened his stride and collapsed onto all fours. The assassin was quick to use the man as leverage. Jumping forward he placed a foot on Andy's back hurling himself forward kicking out at one of the Blighters before turning his shoulder and crashing against the second. A whistle began to blow. Jacob tussled with the man on the floor, his top hat toppling from his head . Curling his fist he cracked his knuckles against the man's jaw, the Blighter's head thwacked against the floor sending a spray of dirt and water into Jacob's eyes. Cursing he brought a hand up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. The Blighter twisted and gave him a knee to the base of his spine. He rolled off, scrambling in the mud. The whistles continued. That must have been the rozzers. Jacob swiftly snatched his top hat off the sodden cobbles.

"Jacob! Trouble!" Will called. Jacob cursed-that was all he needed. The day had started out shitty and it appeared that was how the day was going to end. Shitty. Will quickly came to Jacob's side. "Call it a day then?"

"Not unless you want to end up in the Salt Box," Jacob cocked a brow with a smirk, reaching up Jacob ran a hand through his hair, brushing it back from his face before dusting down his hat and propping it atop his head.

"Oi! Tea leaf!" Jacob called. Andy paused in his pummelling and looked up.

"Crusher's on its way, get to the Mary Blaine yeah?"

"When I'm through 'ere!" Andy grinned through his gap riddled teeth, most had been knocked out from fighting in the pits. Jacob rolled his eyes, before turning to Will. Brushing the edge of his thumb against his cracked lip he heard the whistles entering the alley.

"Shall we?" Jacob nodded.

"After you boss."

Jacob bolted, Will in one direction he in the other. He ducked left, noting the fence he didn't dare a glance back and dropped. Sliding across the ground he slipped through the narrow hole at the base of the fence and sprung to his feet. He ran. He noted a bridge up ahead, which crossed a narrow canal. Counting his strides he leapt up onto the bridge, a foot to each railing, paused, glanced over his shoulder, there another whistle. He laughed before hopping down and taking to the streets again. Emerging the end of the alley mouth he crashed into a man. The pair toppled to the floor, the moocher tumbled into one of the puddles in the cobbles beneath a wagon. The horse gave a shrill whinny. Jacob quickly found his feet snatched the purse which had clattered onto the road from the man's pocket, along with the top hat. There were cries from the women, laughs from the children and gasps from the men. Jacob found his feet, twisted the purse in his gloved hand, he'd keep that the hat though? That Jacob swung the hat toward the man who still lay in a heap on the floor. He bowed low to the man on the floor and doffed his hat.

"Apologies," He smiled.

"You-why you-absolute-you...prig!"

"I am not the muck snipe in the puddle," Jacob corrected tossing the purse into his coat pocket.

"Oi!" A policeman shouted. Well they were certainly out and about today. Jacob heaved a breath before swinging the top hat back atop his head, turning and bolting once more. Leaping he used a wall as leverage, grasped hold of one of the overhanging balcony's and heaved himself up. A gunshot snapped against the wood. He paused, glanced down to the hole embedded in the wood of the balcony before looking down to the police milling about the fallen man. The man who had released the bullet glared. Jacob smirked and preformed a mock bow. Turning Jacob heaved the window to the building up and open. Slipping through the window, it led into a child's bedroom. Two children were sitting up in their bed clutching their bed sheets wide-eyed and screaming. Jacob crossed the room, leapt one of the beds, reached the door and jerked it open. A man appeared in a robe, the children's father perhaps? Jacob threw out his elbow knocking the man in the jaw. He tumbled to the side. Stepping over him the assassin crossed the hall into another bedroom making for the window. It was already ajar. Thrusting it open he sprung onto the window sill and out onto the roof of an opposing house.

He ran.

* * *

Wrapping a hand on the lamp post he swung out before dropping down the step. The night had come quick and now there was nothing but the flicker of the lamps from within the homes and the glare from the street lanterns. Jacob cast his eyes to his right. A man stumbled from the Cauldron and Stewpot. He had lost the rest of his rabble when he had fled from the copper's. He...had earned it hadn't he...? Drifting closer Jacob watched its doors, they lay open...quickly the decision was made to enter. No doubt the train would be somewhere lurking around the borough, Agnes at its head, but for now after the day he had? A bottle of red growler was no doubt in order. Slipping into the small pub he noted a man in the far left sat heavily at a table arguing with the wall, a large pot bellied lady near the counter mopping up...something, the one running it all behind the counter. Nothing of note. That was no bad thing and in truth it was a welcome thing. With the Rooks movement to seize the Whitechapel borough growing it was hard to not run into conflict on a daily basis merely strolling the streets. The Blighters were out to catch each and every Rook available to them. If fact Jacob was sure Cletus Strain was hunting him currently... Approaching the counter Jacob swung the purse from the pocket of his heavy leather trench.

"What can I do you for?" The man behind the counter asked.

"Your finest," Jacob smirked.

"How fine?"

"Finest," Jacob nodded. Slipping onto one of the stools he rifled through the purse, popped a coin out and flipped it toward the bar keeper. Instantly the man's eyes lit up with greed and he instantly spun and searched his inventory. Jacob glanced up and down the counter noting a nearby empty bottle he snatched it up, while also drawing a candle closer. Doing what he could to even attempt to peer at his reflection. Bruised cheek and a burst swelling lip...not bad considering. He had received worse in the pits when Andy and him would take bets on who would last longer, in the end it had usually been Andy who would outlast him. He was brute after all. That man was built like a heavy steel chimney, unmovable, unbreakable and it would be an undeniable feat if someone could put a dent in that man's jaw. Jacob would be the first person to present the medal. His attention was drawn away from faded memories and back to the bar keeper who slid a bottle across the counter toward him, swiftly it was caught, lifted and drank from. Jacob inhaled the contents allowing the liquid to heat his chilled bones. The rain was beginning to dribble down outside again. Jacob peered only briefly over his shoulder toward the door and out into the street. Quickly his attention was reverted to the quarry in his hand. To celebrations.

* * *

Once his thirst was sated and his, well his borrowed, purse was empty Jacob had decided to attempt to locate the train. Stepping out of the pub he peered up the street, a carriage was trotting senselessly toward him. It was of no danger to him. Turning he began in the opposing direction-if he remembered right the tracks were north...or was it south? Cursing he paused in his tracks and peered back up the street attempting to pin point his location, perhaps hear the iron horse itself heaving a whistle? What would Evie say when he came arrived back to the train? Scold him no doubt...her voice was already rolling around in his head. Jacob noted the carriage had pulled to one side of the street. Jacob studied the man sat at its helm, a man with a tall top hat his head down, a heavy trench coat, it's collar pulled high. It was then Jacob noted something else, the horse itself was heaving, it's coat, beneath the leather of its harness, was white with sweat, steam drifted into the dark of the sky. The rain continued to patter down. Jacob spun and continued on his way only to hear the clip clop of hooves sound once again. Without stopping he dared a look over his shoulder to see the carriage had began moving once more. Was it following him? It had to have been. Jacob checked his surroundings, where could he slip away? His eyes studied the tall buildings surrounding him, the lights within their windows now dim and extinguished. He was on his own. Quickly he searched his options. Pushing his hands into the pockets of his leather trench he darted a look up and down the street before striding out and crossed the street to the opposing side. The carriage quickened. Without pause he slipped into an alley between two ram shackled houses. Jacob was quickly regretting his decision to not simply return to the train earlier now. There was Evie's voice again-scolding him. He knew exactly what she would have said. Why did he not resist his urge to 'celebrate' the Rooks small victory? The rain was swiftly washing away the warmth that his victory and celebrations had given him. A rat scuttled across the cobles at his feet, disappearing into a hole in the brickwork of a house. A cats beady eyes watched him from atop a barrel, it mewled as he passed. Using that as an excuse he peered over his shoulder to the animal, really though he was looking past it to the mouth of the alley. The carriage had stopped now. He could see it. A man hopped off the back of the carriage and began after him, the carriage continuing on. Cursing Jacob held his pace until he managed to round the corner. Now he ran. Breaking into a sprint he flew down the alley, being careful to avoid the puddles and overly slippery patches of the cobbles. The Rook looked back, there was a shout before his follower began to run, Searching for a route away Jacob dared a look up. There was nothing near or low enough to aid him in scaling the building, no low hanging signs nor an open window he could slip through. All the doors would be, by now, firmly locked. In the time it would take to open one his pursuer would be on top of him. He skipped over another puddle and ran on. Taking a right turn he came into contact with a high fence-quickly vaulted over it and ran forward. He peered over his shoulder, the man was scrambling very ungracefully over the obstacle. Really? They couldn't even send a proper killer after him? He didn't need to argue-it would give Jacob the seconds he needed. He bolted for the end of the alley. He crashed against a solid blunt force and toppled back. Looking up he noted the horse stood over him. The same scraggy black beast he had seen earlier. Its teeth grinding loudly on the iron within its mouth, the white foam expanding from beneath the leather harness. The doors to the carriage popped open and two men leapt out from its shell. Cursing Jacob leapt up and made to combat them only to feel a blunt force crack into the back of his legs. He faltered and hit the pavement with his knees.

"Oh look-birdie forgot its wings!" A man jeered. Jacob twisted and kicked out-his boot met with the meat of a man's leg. A grunt sounded.

"Ow little bastard!"

"Who you calling little?" Jacob growled wasting no time in making an attempt to rise again however he was swiftly foiled. A fist clapped the back of his head, and he crumpled in to the waiting grasp of another man. His arms were swiftly grabbed and held firm, his body heaved up. Managing to focus his eyes they landed upon Cletus Strain. The sturdy brute stepped down from the carriage and stood tall, his scrutinizing eyes studying Jacob.

"Evening Strain," Jacob nodded, "Fancy meeting you here." Jacob chimed happily.

"Shut it, heard you been knocking about my district Rook," Strain growled before throwing his fist across Jacob's cheek. That stung, it also caused his cracked lip to burst once more. A drool of blood rolled down his chin. "Don't appreciate people in my district that ain't welcome. And no one said you could come into my district."

"Should keep yourself at that house of yours then eh? Or did they let you out of the asylum for the weekend?"

"Fucking Rook," Strain growled his fist again came to hammer Jacob.

"That all you got?" Jacob smirked.

"'Ave some respect you beggar," One of the Blighters hissed. Strain's eyes narrowed dangerously. His dome like head seemed to grown a foot in height as he loomed over Jacob. Jacob wasn't deterred however, he had met far worse. Strain lunged forward grabbing Jacob and hammering his fist across his jaw once again. Jacob hit the floor hard. His head was beginning to spin, he felt the pit in his stomach about to wretch, his night had started so well... The Blighters laughed as Jacob hit the pavement.

"I never liked you," Strain hissed.

"Your words are riveting," Jacob hissed peering up over his shoulder to the man.

"Lambeth is my borough."

"Not for much longer," Jacob corrected.

Strain ducked low and grasped the front of Jacob's shirt pulling him in close, again. Too close for Jacob's liking. He could smell the alcohol on Strain's breath, could see the food between his teeth, even in the dim light of the night. "Heh..we'll see. Hold him down lads."

The blood drooled a little further down Jacob's chin. Two of the blighters moved forward and restrained him. Hold him down? What more pummelling? What would it prove? That Strain could fight a man that couldn't retaliate? Jacob of course-didn't make it easy for them and kicked out, threw his fists out. Strain laughed before standing tall and casting a look to the Blighter's holding the Rook. Jacob felt the Blighter's retaliate instantly, knocking their fists into his abdomen-into his body. Jacob began to see stars flitter in his vision-a sharp silver glint captured his attention. Strain turned now and clicked the barrel of the revolver. Shit.

"Like I said, Rook. No one ever said you could come into my district," Strain laughed spinning and holding the revolver high. Shit.

 ** _BANG_**


	2. Chapter 2

The dawn was slow to come, leaking over the horizon, the light slowly spilled across the city, clouds of steam from the trains looping and dancing around the city drifted into a grey dismal morning. The streets slowly came to life, the bustle of the workers, the carriages of the rich and the roar from the street urchins and whistles of the police.

Leaping down from the open window, landing atop the outcropping of the house below, the boy scurried as a burly woman leant out the window wagging her finger.

"Come back 'ere you maggot!" She roared after him. The boy scurried faster, tucking the wadded bundle under his arms. Sprinting through the streets he skipped past the tall women and men strolling beneath heavy parasols and top hats, past the work men who smelt of coal and sweat. The boy proceeded to slip between the cracks and holes of the street that only a street urchin would know. He dropped down levels, clambered up streets, through houses, over roofs and fences until he reached the docks of the Thames. The lad steadied himself now and slowed his pace finally allowing himself to pull the lip of his ragged jacket back and pulling the bundle out once more. Running down the docks he perched himself at the very edge of the furthest outcropping and flopped down setting the bundle on his lap and unfolding the material from around the half loaf of bread. Casting his eyes over his shoulders he knew he was alone. The copper's hadn't managed to catch him that day. It had been close though he wasn't expecting that woman to see him-what an old hag she was. The urchin allowed his legs to dangle off the end of the pier beginning to swing them, the tide was out now revealing the muddy banks beneath the slats and pillars of the docks. It reeked of piss and shit. Of rats and rot. That wouldn't stop the lad from claiming his victory-he had worked damned well hard for this so he would bloody well enjoy it. Without further warning he opened his mouth as wide as it would stretch and took a hearty chomp on the bread. It was slightly stale and a tad dry-not to worry. He had much worse. He continued to fling his legs as he ate his reward. Perhaps he should save some of it for the future...? Nah. The lad finished it all.

Sitting back with a bloated belly he attempted to breath heavy breaths-maybe he had eaten that too quickly. The lad heaved a heavy breath before looking across the waters. Across the river lay the grand sight of Westminster. What the pockets of the people over there would hold, gold and jewels probably. The lad would have to content himself with remaining in Lambeth he supposed-there was no way he would ever make a living over there with all the rich folk. Heaving a sigh the lad brought a hand up and rubbed at his tired eyes-the meal had made him sleepy now. He'd have to find a small crag to curl up in and snooze for the better part of the morning. Balling up the loose empty cloth the bread had been wrapped in the boy leant back and chucked it as far out onto the mud strand as he could. The mottled colored material flitted through the air before descending on to a mud coated rock. Wait. That wasn't no rock. The boy strained his eyes against the morning sun peering to the lump in the mud. Was that...a person? The lad peered over his shoulders, did no one else seem to notice? Rising from his seat on the edge of the dock the boy scrambled down one of the dock legs. His feet sank instantly into the thick mud, rising up his shins. It smelt even worse now! Shutting the smell out the boy pulled through the mud toward the lump. As he drew closer he realized it was indeed a body-a man in a leather trench coat.

"Mister?" The boy squeaked. He had seen dying people but never a dead one. He pulled through the mud again. There was no response from the man. Perhaps he should go find some aid? What was he going to do when he got to the body anyway? Maybe it had some money on it... The lad trudged forward, his left foot became wedged in the thick slurry like mud causing him to stumble. He extended his hands to brace but they too only sank into the mud. This had better be worth it. The coat the man wore itself would be worth something-looked of good quality. Finally managing to spring his hands free of the mud the boy slopped forward. Now he'd have to wait until the tide came back in before having a decent wash. Smashing. He'd reek of piss now. He reached the body.

"Mister?" He said loudly again. Nothing. Phew. His hand reached out greedily to the coat but paused. There was blood. A lot of blood. Soaking into the delves in the mud and forming small pools. The man's face was a mass of bruising and cuts. This man had obviously just been left for dead. Was this one of those gang members? What were they called...the Blighters? They hounded urchins like him. Trying to get them to do their bidding. Fuck them. The boy's hand froze hovering in midair, he was itching to check the pockets of the coat but-

 **Snatch!**

The lad cried out as a hand reached out and grabbed hold of his wrist. It was alive?! The lad scrambled attempting to pull away, the man's grip was tight even though he looked dead.

"Get off me!" The boy squealed scrambling in the mud, his legs only sinking deeper, mud slapping his face as he tried to jerk free. His flat cap flopping off his head in the struggle. After a moment his wrist was released and he collapsed back into the mud, breathing hard and staring wide eyed at the man who had grabbed him. Wait until he told the others about this! Clara herself wouldn't believe it-the living dead? The man in the mud groaned-was he trying to speak.

"What you say?" The boy asked, his heart hammering in his chest. The man grumbled again trying to rise out of the mud. His skin was pale, eyes dark, bruised and shadowed by dark hair. The left side of his jaw was swollen. The entirety of his front was blood coated. How long had he been down here for? Who had left him here?

"..Frye..." The man managed to wheeze before collapsing into the mud. Frye? The lad sat and watched the man a long moment. Frye...that was them twins that had been helping Clara wasn't it? The one's who were liberating London, at least that's what all the others said. Kids had actually came back from the factories they were snatched away to work in... The lad pulled himself out of the mud.

"Wait here, mister," The boy quickly spun on his heels and tried to pull himself back toward the docks as quickly as the mud would allow. It was slow moving but once he met the streets again, he put a hand to his head ensuring his flat cap wouldn't blow away as he ran. He sprinted-through the alleys, under fences, past people, through open windows. The lad ran as fast as his legs would possibly carry him.

* * *

She was doubled over the desk her fingers delicately running over the pages within the notebook. No thanks to her brother this was all they had been able to obtain from the chest. _'Well that was fun_ ', Jacob had laughed. How infuriated that had made her-he had made it so they had almost left with nothing. The notebook that Evie had managed to hold onto in the chaos had been invaluable, in the word's of Henry anyway. Not only that but it would lead them to the former Asssassin's, Edward Kenway's, home. What they would find there would lead to The Shroud. If true then this piece of Eden was capable of healing the most grievous of injuries, something Evie did not want the Templar's to get their hands on. When they had finally managed to escape the Templar's Jacob had laughed. Oh she could have wrung his neck then and there-after all of that he had vanished into the streets to find his Rooks. At least the gang kept him busy and out of her way, it gave her more time to concentrate on real matters. The train wheezed another breathless squeal as it trundled on the tracks. They would make their final preparations and then Evie and Henry would travel to the manor. Spinning Evie crossed the rear train car snatching up her cane and moving forward up the length of the train. She stepped into the third carriage where a number of the rooks were all lounging around the small bar. How could this many possibly fit in here? Evie squeezed past a tall framed brute of a man. The man spun around now when he noticed her and stopped her instantly.

"'scuse me, Miss. Frye?"

"Andy!" Evie looked up to him-he did tower over her after all. The man had a thick purple burst lip and a black left eye. He must have been fighting again. "I see you've been busy then?" Evie noted gesturing to the marks on his face.

"Heh. Should see the Blighters!" Andy chuckled through his swollen jaw, lip cracking and a drop of blood oozing from it. Wiping it with the back of his Andy turned solemn now. "Do forgive us, Miss. Frye, but was wondering if you'd seen Jacob?"

"I would much rather not after the trouble he's caused me."

"Oh...it's just he never made it to the tav last night and...well me and a few of the boys ain't heard from him since."

"Oh you know Jacob," Evie snorted, "Probably out causing another spectacle in the streets somewhere." Evie gave Andy a pat on the shoulder moving to step past him. Andy however stopped her and reached for her arm halting her.

"But we're going up against Strain-we need Jacob."

Evie took pause now. Her brother had organized a turf war and was now nowhere to be found? She looked up to Andy...the man seemed concerned. That worried her. She looked around the carriage assessing the Rooks within. All seemed unsettled.

"Andy..." Evie turned her attention back to the man.

"What happened last night?"

"We ran into a scrap with some of the Blighters down Lambeth, crusher's started coming so we said we'd all split and meet back at The Cauldron and Stewpot but Jacob never arrived. He never gives up a chance to celebrate you see, me and the boy's didn't think much of it but ain't no one seen him yet today."

The train wheezed another loud whistle signalling they were drawing close to one of the stations. Evie began to feel a sick feeling stirring in the pit of her stomach. No one had even seen him? On one hand she thought it just another time her brother wanted them all to worry and then arrive when everyone was in a knot-laugh and everything would return to normal. Something felt different though. It was rolling into late afternoon now.

"When is this turf war?" Evie looked to Andy.

"In the next hour, we can't go without Jacob and we can't not show. We don't know what to do Miss. Frye.."

Evie groaned. She so desperately wanted to go to the Kenway manor...but the Rooks looked like lost chicks without their mother. Heaving a sigh just as the train made its way into another of the stations Evie reached out and clapped a hand against Andy's shoulder.

"Guess we'll have to go face Strain then and hope Jacob meets us there," She smiled.

* * *

"This way," The lad muttered gesturing forward toward the docks. Clara followed him. The boy had sprinted to her, quickly mentioned that Jacob Frye was bleeding by the docks and within moments she had left the other children to find Jacob. She had sent others to warn Evie but they had yet to return to her. The sun was beginning to descend again-a faint chill growing on the wind as they neared the dock. What a terrible place to be left. It was riddled with disease and faeces. The boy, Alfie, wondered through the streets until they finally reached the docks. The wind blowing in across the Thames made Clara pull the shawl around her shoulders tighter. Alfie trotted over the docks, onto one of the piers and looked down onto the mud bank below.

"You couldn't even have helped him out of the mud?" Clara scolded trotting up onto the docks after him.

"He was dead!" Alfie retorted.

"He's not dead," Clara clapped a hand against the boy's skull nearly knocking the flatcap from off his head. She turned her attention to the mud below them and searched. "Where did you say he was?"

"This is definitely the spot!" Alfie scowled squinting to try and see better. With fading light it would do little good. Clara searched the mud a moment longer. There was indeed disruption in the mud but there was no one to be found.

"He ain't here..." Alfie heaved a sigh.

"Then where is he?" Clara turned and searched the open dockland. It was emptying. It was only then she noted a trail of mud on the pavement. She began to follow it, it led away from the mud and into the streets before fading and leaving them with nothing to follow. He had moved himself. That was good news...but at the same time terribly bad. Where was he now? Clara noted a blood smear on a nearby barrel.

"Where did he go?" Alfie said quietly.

"Not sure. Tell the children to start searching. Miss. Frye needs to know." Alfie fled into the streets, sprinting away holding the cap atop his head. Clara paused and looked around the dockland. Where was he? Had someone moved the body? Clara kept her shawl wrapped around her shoulders before beginning through the streets, hurriedly. She had heard that the Rooks were planning on taking Lambeth. They were fighting Strain...they? She. Evie would be taking Lambeth.

* * *

Evie swooped low, narrowly missing a fist that was thrown at her face. She kicked out and flicked the hidden blade from her wrist slashing it out. It cut a meaty thigh of a Blighter sending the man squawking and tumbling to the floor. Evie grinned brightly before turning and swinging her cane knocking another man in the jaw. The man tumbled back into Andy's iron grip finding himself lifted off the floor entirely before being thrown into an ungraceful heap onto the cobbles. Andy have her a salute before turning and hammering his fist against another Blighter half the size of him. Evie paused briefly. They had reached the turf war but Jacob was still nowhere to be seen and the Blighters had arrived in order to defend their territory. They had little choice but to battle. Evie may have...actually been enjoying herself. No of course not-she would have much rather attended the manor and found out more about the precursor.

" _Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush...the mulberry bush...here we go round the mulberry bush, so early in the morning,"_ A voice sounded behind Evie, Well it was not a pleasant song to listen to. Andy had warned her that Strain was a bit...sadistic. She spun to see the large figure striding forward her. She studied the man, readying herself. He was large that was all she needed to know. She'd have to use his size to her advantage. She was only small in comparison but she would be quicker, more agile.

"Come on then Strain," Evie urged the man to attack.

"She wants to join her brother then eh...?"

Her heart stopped. What? "What do you mean by that?" Evie said cautiously.

" _Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie..._ " Strain sang again. He held a large butcher's knife in his right hand, cracked his knuckles before grinning wickedly and lunging forward. Evie was flustered. What had he meant? She dropped to her knees and rolled across the cobbles avoiding his strikes. He tried to stamp his foot atop her while she was on the floor. Swiftly she kicked at his knees. It must have hurt her more than him-he didn't budge. He grinned and kicked out-this time catching her stomach. She lurched back a foot before scrambling to her feet again. She twisted the cane in her hand.

"What did you mean Strain?" Evie pressed again. Was he just trying to distract her? Strain grinned again.

"Poor little Blackbird. She lost without her brother? Least he put up a better fight then you," Strain lunged forward again. She swung the cane striking his brow, he stumbled only to swipe the blade out toward her. The edge caught her arm-slicing the meat of her shoulder. Twisting back she lunged the cane down again on his shoulders. He crumpled to the floor before twisting and kicking out. Evie leapt back out of his reach easily. He scrambled to his feet and lunched for her now. Quicker than before. For a man of such mass he could move when he wanted to. His fists came in a flurry the knife among them. Evie stopped each advance...almost. The back of his hand swept across her face with a harsh smack. The force could have sent a lesser person sprawling a number of feet, Evie only stumbled. Stumbled enough for Strain to grab her. He wrapped an arm around her throat pulling harshly on her neck severing the supply of oxygen, lifting her from her feet. Evie spluttered-scrambling to grab at his arm and rip it away.

"Ran into your brother last night...happy he was. Dead he is now. I'll tell you what I told him-Lambeth is my borough." Strain pulled hard on her neck. Evie dropped the cane in her hand attempting desperately to pull his arm away but he only squeezed harder.

"This-isn't," Evie gasped, "Your borough." She gasped again. "Any. More." She flicked her wrist and swung her hand up driving it up and back. She couldn't see what she struck but there was a horrified cry on anguish and the pressure on her throat was released. Evie dropped to her knees coughing and trying to suck in large much needed breaths. There was blood on her blade. Looking over her shoulder she saw Strain's bloodied face. Her blade had stuck his cheek just beneath the bone under his eye. Blood ran down his jaw and through the gaps of his fingers. Evie rose to her feet and leapt forward kicking out she hit his bloodied face with the heel of her boot, producing another agonizing cry from the man. One of the Blighter's was rushing her from the left-only to be taken down by Will. Evie focused her attention on Strain. She kicked again, slashed with her hidden blade that punctured a nerve in his arm rendering it useless. He drew his hand away from his face and attempted to grab her. She was too quick for him. She spun, and brought her own fist into his jaw. He howled. Evie leapt now and descended on him. Pinning him to the floor beneath her. With a swift strike of her blade she severed the flesh behind his knees before finally holding her blade to his throat.

"Where's my brother?" Evie hissed.

"Dead."

"Answer me! I know he's not dead." Jacob couldn't be dead. She knew he wasn't. He may have been a hot head but someone like Strain couldn't kill him..it just wasn't true. Her heart began to race and ache...

"You don't want to admit you're all alone. He ain't coming back now," Strain grinned through blood coated teeth.

"I know you're lying!" Evie screamed.

"I'm a dead man. Dead men don't lie..." Strain grinned again-chuckling. His hand reached beneath the collar of his shirt producing a leather necklace with a shilling at its end. "This familiar?" Evie felt her eyes boiling, her blood running cold. He lied! He had to have lied! Why...why would he lie? Without a second thought she forced the blade into the man's throat. Blood spat upward, splashing her cheek. Strain's eyes widened and he growled-his hand reached for her throat fingers attempting to close around her flesh. Evie forced the blade further into his flesh. He battled her. Evie growled before ripping the blade from his throat to the right, splitting flesh and allowing blood to run free. The leather necklace snapped and the shilling dropped into the pooling blood. Evie reached out, carefully picking the memento from the crimson liquid. It was stained. Evie quickly wiped the blood away with the thumb of her leather glove. It was then she noticed that tears had burned down her cheeks. The light finally faded from Strain's eyes, the anger and gloating washing away to a soulless cold unseeing stare. His hand flopped to the floor. Evie chest was heaving, tears running freely down her eyes, clouding her vision so she could barely seen. There was silence. The Blighters that remained stood uncertainly now their leader was dead. The Rooks would have been cheering were it not for the words spoken and Evie's frantic tears. She was a mess. Evie couldn't be alone in this world...she couldn't have lost her father and now her brother. She had thought she would wring his neck the next time she saw him...would she see him again? Evie sat back on Strain's body and raised her eyes to the sky attempting to blink away the boiling tears.

"Jacob?" She called loudly. She opened her mouth to call for her brother again but her words turned into a mournful wail as she clutched the shilling tight to her chest. She could hardly contain herself. She was always so poised-so collected and gathered. She would never have believed Strain-never...but this...she opened her hands and looked down to the small coin in her grip...this...made her resolve break. Evie cried out.


	3. Chapter 3

Andy had hauled her to her feet, away from the body of Strain, returning her to the safety of a carriage heading away from the depth of Lambeth. Walter had remained at the scrap to organize the remaining Rooks and Blighters-those that had remained had opted to join the Rooks rather than the alternative. Evie sat heavily in the carriage, the plush seating gave her no reassurance. Her heart felt...well it didn't. She couldn't feel anything. Evie had never felt the emptiness which she did now...never in her life. The carriage rocked back and forth as it trundled through the streets of a silent London. Her eyes remained staring at...nothing. As she tried to steady her racing thoughts she closed her eyes attempting to steady her entire self. As her lids closed she felt water spill down her cheeks, burn down her flesh and roll down her chin. They had just stopped now to return with a vengeance. Her fist tightened around the shilling in her hand, clutching so tight the coin dug unforgivingly into the flesh of her fingers. She couldn't even feel that. She sniffed.

"Oh Jacob..." She breathed, her words barely audible. Her fist was shaking at the effort of clutching to the coin. Steadily she allowed her grip to loosen, as a shaky breath escaped her lips, forcing her eyes to open again. A world without Jacob...a world alone...

"Woah, nags!" That was Andy's voice from the seat of the carriage. Evie cast her eyes up. There were words exchanged from outside. Evie rose from her seat, lifting the necklace and looping it around her neck before throwing the carriage door open. The door almost knocked a small child from its feet. The child squealed and leapt back across the cobbles. Evie's eyes studied the urchin. Tattered pants, raggy clothing, a small flat cap on his head. Big eyes bulged from beneath a fringe of dark hair.

"Miss. Frye?" The child squeaked.

"What is it?" Evie asked pointedly. Obviously this was one of Clara's underlings, Evie had developed quite the soft spot for the children of the city...all they wanted was to feel like they were loved..she would. She adored each and every one.

"It's Miss. O'Dea," The boy nodded, "She sent me."

"What's happened?" She was experiencing nothing. She couldn't feel anything...perhaps she could occupy herself now-turn her attention to finding her brother amidst the streets of London. He was not dead. She refused to believe so. He was too stubborn to die. He'd proved it many times before.

"It's your brother miss," The child nodded reaching up and pulling the cap from his head. Her heart fluttered a moment before continuing to ache. She stepped down from the carriage now and grabbed hold of the child's shoulders looking direct to his eyes.

"What of him?" Evie demanded. Sharp-frantic.

"We found him Miss but-"

"Where? Where is he?"

"That's the thing Miss...we don't know. He's gone."

"Gone?" Her heart shattered all over again.

"But we're looking...he's badly hurt."

"Then he has to be found. What's your name?"

"It's Alfred...most call me Alfie."

Evie released the boy's shoulders before drawing him close and embracing him, relief flooded her body. Jacob may be hurt but alive. If they had found him...but couldn't find a trace now then that's the only thread of hope she needed to perceiver. The child was taken aback by her embrace. She clung to him for a long moment before releasing him and grasping his hand leading him back toward the carriage.

"We will search together," Evie was determined now. She allowed the boy to clamber into the carriage first. She paused...a brief moment on the steps and looked over her shoulder to the city that surrounded them.

"Hold on, Jacob. Don't die..."

* * *

He shambled forward, on unsteady feet. Exhaustion was one thing, the blood loss was quite another. A hand pressed firmly over his ribcage his breaths were short and it was a miracle he had been able to clamber from the mud. How exhausting it had been. He didn't know how much he had left in him. He had traipsed through the streets-difficult as it was. There were still Blighters about and, although he hated to admit it, he couldn't face them now. He was struggling to breath as was. He paused and propped himself against a wall, sweat was trickling down his brow-even in the frigid weather. Where was the bloody train? He thought it would have heard it by now...or perhaps the sound of pulsing blood in his ears was drowning it out.

"Shit..." He muttered sliding down the wall and allowing himself to sit on the cold floor. He was half hidden in an alley between two houses. It would have to do..until he either lapsed into unconsciousness and woke or was found. None were willing to help him as was. All who saw him and simply ignored him. Jacob pulled his hand away from beneath the lip of his leather coat and saw his white shirt and waistcoat stained thick. A small fleeting thought in his mind was the simple fact that now he had sat...would he rise again. Of course he would. He just needed...to catch his breath. Yeah. That was it. He gentle placed his hand back over the wound on his chest. He tried to breath deep but it only caused a sharp hot flare to course through his body. Had bone been shattered? Is that what had happened? His clenched his jaw tight waiting the pain to subside before taking the small measured breaths he could. A carriage trundled by the open mouth of the alley. Must have been getting on. Jacob rested his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, focusing on the breaths.

* * *

 _He sat atop some covered crates at the desolate train station, the tip of his fingers running over the edge of the half cocked hidden blade that peeked from the gauntlet on his wrist. He could hear footsteps rushing toward him now, the familiar clack of her heels, the puff of her breaths. Evie appeared and steadied to a halt next to him, leaning down briefly on her knees to regain herself. Jacob peered at her from the corner of his eye.  
"What was that explosion?" He asked. It was usually him to cause alarm. She was supposed to be the stealthier of the pair. _

_"What..explosion?" Evie asked nonchalant through heavy breaths._

 _"Evie..." Jacob's eyes narrowed now as he turned his head to her._

 _Slowly Evie straightened and rolled her eyes before clenching her jaw. "The Piece of Eden detonated and took the lab with it."_

 _Jacob grinned. "The magic lump of hyperbolic metal?"He placed his hands to the edge of the crates and swung his legs before leaping from the top. "I'm shocked!" He feigned surprise. Evie was walking away from him now attempting to ignore him._

 _"Simply because you have never valued the Pieces, does not mean-"_

 _No. He wouldn't listen to this. "All went according to plan, hmm?" And that was when he arrived. George Westhouse with his scrutinizing gaze. Evie wheeled around to face him._

 _"There was a slight complication-" She breathed quickly._

 _"How slight?" George cocked a brow._

 _"The lab exploded," Jacob nodded. Why hide the truth? No doubt George had seen the flames and heard the noises._

 _"Jacob!" Evie scolded. It was the truth wasn't it?_

 _"You derailed a train," George looked to Jacob now. That had been a proud moment for Jacob. He scowled now. Evie's grin grew instead._

 _"Oh! He did, did he?" She circled him now, flashing her grin. Jacob sighed._

 _"Well the train derailed and I happened to be on it. I killed my target."_

 _"Brewster is also, no more."_

 _George hesitated. "Then all in all a successful mission in spite of you two."_

 _"What about London?" Jacob attempted to draw attention away from the current matters._

 _"What about it?" George sighed, glaring at Jacob now._

 _"We're wasting our time out here," Jacob pointed out._

 _"You know as well as I do that London and been the domain of the Templar's for the last hundred years. They are far too strong yet! Patience." George had said the same thing many a time before..Jacob was just refusing to listen._

 _"The Templars have found a new piece of Eden." Evie pointed out...at least the twins could agree on some things._

 _"Sir David is dead, they to not know how to use it. The Council shall guide us. Sound advice that you father would have seconded. I shall see you back in Crawley." George left now, without another word and without having to try and force his point across any longer. Jacob scowled, before looking to Evie._

 _"'Patience Evie',:" Jacob mocked George before shaking his head. Evie paced._

 _"Ah the gentle sound of opportunity passing us by..." She sighed._

 _Jacob turned now and looked to his sister, "So what's stopping us?" He took a step closer to her, "London is waiting to be liberated. Forget Crawley-"_

 _"Father would have wanted us to listen-"_

 _No. Don't argue with him. Listen to him. Just this once. "Oh, father. You could continue his legacy in London"_

 _"Freeing future generations from a city ruled by Templars. You know...Jacob Frye..you might just be right." Evie looked to him now-eyes sparkling. The sound of a passing train could be heard, the huff and puff from its chimney, the trundle of its wheels, the smell of the burning coal. Jacob's eyes focused on Evie now._

 _"Then shall we?" He watched her a long moment._

 _A grin crossed her lips, "Yes. Let's. Onward to London," She rushed past him, across the platform and toward the train. Jacob grinned now before quickly spinning and rushing after her._

* * *

Jacob snapped his eyes open and everything returned to him. The darkness of the alley he was sat in, the pain that flared through his aching exhausted muscles. He had to move. He had allowed him to slip too far. Inhaling a short, shaky breath Jacob moved to push himself off the ground. His left arm remained at his side on the floor-ignoring him. His legs felt weak and, they too, had no want to respond.

"Come on..." Jacob hissed to himself. He wouldn't stay here. Like a dog left to pass. He managed to at least shift his shoulders forward away from the wall but that only resulted in sharp pain sprinting up his body again. He sat back, unable to move, fearful if he did. Fear...it began to sink in now. If he didn't get back to his feet..if he didn't get back to the train...if he didn't stop the bleeding..? Jacob looked to his right noting a burning bin. If he applied heat..he could sear the wound closed..that would give him some more time. Steeling himself Jacob forced his legs to respond, forced his body to respond. Growling he returned to his feet, using the wall for support he staggered down the alley toward the burning bin. A number of papers, woods and general waste burned in the steel barrel. Jacob looked to the contents..it wasn't the cleanest. The orange flames that bounced from the burning rubbish however... Flicking his wrist the blade sprung from its sleep.

"Shit.." Jacob muttered. He extended his hand, holding the blade over the flames. Instantly his hand began to feel the heat through the leather of his glove. He'd have to wait until the blade was red hot. He waited...and waited. The blade slowly shifted from silver to a pale pink before finally beginning to turn a blistering red. He had to look away from it. The thought...

Jacob reached to his waistcoat and unfastened it, ripping the shirt beneath open. He looked to the gunshot wound on his rib cage. Inhaling deeply he counted in his head, from 5. 5..4..he drew his hand away from the flames, the heat of the blade already licking his skin...3..2...1. Gritting his teeth he forced the blade against his flesh. Bloody Nora. It seared white hot. Never mind the ache of his bones now..his ribs set ablaze with newfound pain. He forced himself to leave the blade against the skin. Jacob's knees buckled beneath him but he kept the blade against his skin. The flesh began to burn and blister...but close. _Hold..it.._ he was crying out in agony, his legs finally gave way and he collapsed down. He dropped to his hands and knees. The blade didn't retract in time and burnt the flesh of his hand through the leather of his glove causing another outrageous gasp of pain. Bright idea this had been. Even though the blade was no longer on his flesh he could still feel the searing and knitting of the skin that had been melted beneath the touch of steel. His whole body shuddered in shock. Now. Get to the train. Jacob opened his eyes and looked down the remainder of the alley...oh how it seemed to grow in length. Reaching for the wall Jacob tried to find his feet but he ungracefully slumped back to the floor his eyes growing heavier. The dawn would be coming but instead his world grew darker and darker until it faded to black...once more.

* * *

Alfie had led Evie, back to the place he had originally found Jacob. He and Andy waited now by the carriage on the road. Evie stooped low in the mud, her boots splattered with the wretched ooze from the Thames. Her eyes were on the disturbed mud before her..it was somewhat washed away now after the tide had come in. It was most certainly her brother though. The size of the imprint and build was undoubtedly Jacob Frye's. The mud stuck to her gloved fingers as she brushed a hand against where his head would have laid. Evie turned now and watched the disturbances in the mud as they continued to the docks. Rising she stepped through the waste toward the docks. Jacob must have finally risen, through great difficulty and dragged himself through the mud before finally heaving himself up the docks. Evie could almost picture him doing so...they she noticed the blood. Blood. Follow the blood. Evie quickened her pace now, swiftly ascending up the docks.

"Find anything Miss. Frye?" Andy quizzed from his laid back position against the carriage shell, Alfie sat on the front seat. Evie ignored him completely. She began to see it now. The trail. The trail of blood that led from the mud, across the docks and into the streets. She hurried, her pace quickening. Heart racing. Please God, don't let her find him dead. She rushed into the alley, her eyes remaining on the smears of blood on the walls. Poster's had bloody hand prints splashed over their displays. Around another corner.

"Jacob?" She called without so much as thinking. No answer. She pushed forward, watching the trail. It would to the left. Right. Another left. Then she began to see the smears of blood growing thinner, patchier. "No." She growled searching for more, more signs. They began to fade. "NO!" She hissed. Another left. Right. Right. Nothing. "Damn it!" She cursed. She glanced briefly to her left noting she had struck out at the wall in rage..her wrist throbbed. Her hand dropped to her side and she attempted to suck in deep, measured breaths. Therre were hurried footsteps that followed her. She didn't even need to turn to know who it was.

"Andy," Evie heaved a sigh looking around to him.

"Miss. Frye? Did you find something?"

"No.." Evie admitted casting her eyes to the last remaining blood stain against the wall. "The trail runs cold here." Andy said no more. He merely glanced around the area they had found themselves in. Evie could feel tears threatening her again. _Don't dare. Not here. Not now._ Evie closed her eyes firmly. If the trail ran cold did that mean he had been found? Was in one of the local hospitals? Had the Blighter's gotten to him? Or was he merely back at the station waiting for them. Forcing her eyes to open and dry themselves Evie turned away from the trail and shook her head. "Where are you, Jacob?" Her voice was hoarse and strained. Perhaps inquire at the hospitals? Perhaps inquire with Abberline? Someone must know something. Evie reached out to the wall, to one of the smeared stains, the tips of her glove brushing against it. This wouldn't be all that was left. Her hand lingered a moment before dropping away. Flakes of dry crimson fluttered off the wall as she did so. Oh how her heart ached, the emptiness began to return and make itself irrevocably clear. The realization of just how much blood she could see...it didn't bode well. Evie's eyes returned to the brute that stood watching her with pitying eyes.

"He's not gone," Evie spoke now. Andy shifted, seemed unconvinced.

"As you say, Miss. Frye."

"Get the Rooks on the streets. He needs to be found."

"Miss. Frye-"

"What are you waiting for? I'll make my own way back to the train-the station's not far. Go. Now!" Evie's tone raised. Andy brought a hand to the back of his neck and scrubbed at it before sighing and nodding. The man turned, paused to look at her once more on the verge of speaking before relenting and trudging back through the alleys. Evie watched after him. She began to feel the cold touch of rain descending from the grey skies. The cool droplets washed over her, dampening her hair, sticking it to her brow, soaking through her clothing. If she wept she would never have known. Turning her head to the sky she watched the grey clouds drifting senselessly before turning and beginning to wonder the streets alone. Was this a feeling she would have to become accustomed to now..?

* * *

His eyes opened. The world returned, as did the colors that surrounded him. It was no longer black. Jacob noted the grey hue of dawn spilling through the streets, peeking into the cracks and crevices of the alleys. It was raining now. He was shivering from the wet and the cold. The burning of his ribs hadn't seemed to be quelled any. Jacob dragged a hand beneath him and pushed. Tried to rise from his collapsed heap on the floor. There was a wheeze of a train. The train. _Get up, get up now. Or lose your chance._ Jacob scrambled, heaving his body from off the floor, getting to all fours before finally bracing himself and dragging his feet beneath him. He retracted the hidden blade away now. He stumbled onward, once he found his feet. Through the alleys. His body screamed at him for sleep...again. _No. Don't you dare._ He kept his eyes wide, arm around his body for support. He was numb. Everything was numb and wet but he pushed on.

* * *

Evie descended the steps of the station, her body heavy. She could simply sleep for days now. Her hair clung to her face from the wind and rain. She couldn't even be bothered to remove the hair from her eyes. She kept her eyes ahead, back straight as she crossed the platform. The train heaved a wheezing whistle. The familiar blood red, black and golden, first car of the train came trundling along the tracks. The rain dripped from Evie's gloved finger tips as she took a moment's pause and waited for the train to slide into the station. She wanted to look over her shoulder and return to the streets and alleys-return to the search for her brother but now..with a storm descending all manner of traces of blood, mud and sweat would be washed away. Every last chance she had to find her brother would be swept away..perhaps that was what happened to him..perhaps the Thames had claimed him? It would seem like the logical solution were it not for the trail that led up onto the dockland and into the streets. Where would he go? Evie shut her eyes firm as the train whistled again. Evie raised her arm to flag Agnes to stop. The woman's round face was peering from the window of the first train car. The trundling wheels slowed now squealing as sparks flew up from the tracks beneath it drawing to a halt. Evie held her head high, braced herself to step forward and put every valuable resource she had into finding her brother. The Kenway manor could wait...the Templars could wait. London could wait. The train slowed before finally drawing to a halt on the tracks next to the platform. Evie moved forward, her boots clicking against the floor as she strode forward. The next event would make her world shatter again.

"Evie!"

She turned, spun on the balls of her feet. There. Hobbling into the station was the drenched, blood coated form of her brother. He clutched himself as if his grip was the only thing that kept him together. Evie felt her eyes dampen again...only this time out of joy. This couldn't have been real...could it.

"Jacob?" She called in response.

"Evie..." Jacob called again. Evie moved to take a step toward him. He descended the steps onto the train platform. He wasn't well. Evie could see it in his body, the way he moved, the way he held himself, his voice. Her heart-elated for a moment was suddenly torn apart by fear again. Her little brother. Then...he dropped. Crumpled to the floor..much like Evie's heart. it plummeted to her stomach.

"Jacob!" She rushed forward.


	4. Chapter 4

How did one go from being freed from all sense of pain and trouble to having every fibre of joy ripped away again? You watched your sibling bloodied and on death's door struggle for their life. For a brief moment it had been alright. Jacob's presence had warmed her, made her feel strong again and then she felt like a weak child. She raced across the platform, sliding on her knees to a stop next to him, her hands reached out for him. He was real. As she rolled him into her arms her eyes darted to the open waistcoat and shirt and beneath a sickening array of purple and black bruising spread across his flesh...but the worst was the blistered burn on his ribs. What had happened? Evie looked down to his pale, sodden face. His eyes were open but far away now. Frighteningly far.

"Jacob?" Evie pressed moving a hand to his cheek attempting to bring his eyes to her, make her look at her. Focus on her. His head rolled easily into her hand and a faint ghost like smile touched his lips but the eyes...they still remained elsewhere. He had a cut lip and more bruising on his face. What was she to do? It was like her brother was in a dreamland, awake but not present. Evie shook him roughly again. Never mind his injuries! If she couldn't return him to the present he would be lost weather she guarded his bruised body or not.

"Jacob," She growled firmly. His eyes fluttered now. They were fluttering closed. "Jacob!" She growled again, "Don't you fall asleep. Do you hear me? Jacob?" She shook him again. He groaned at the movement now and his eyes closed. "Jacob!" Evie demanded again as the panic began to set in. Evie's eyes darted to the train.

"What's gone on?" Agnes was bumbling across the platform, breasts bouncing and face red. Evie looked to the woman.

"Help me," Evie breathed, her eyes were stinging. She wouldn't finally have her brother return just to be snatched away now. Agnes was approaching but not quick enough for Evie. Some of the Rook's stepped down off the train now. "Help me!" Evie screamed again. Agnes just couldn't reach her quick enough. Evie clutched Jacob close. Refusing to let him go, shaking him every so often trying to wake him, even though it wouldn't do a thing to help. "Help me!" Evie screamed again, voice echoing throughout the empty desolate station. Agnes finally reached her, putting her hands on Evie's shoulders and hushing her.

"Easy, love," Agnes said soothingly. Evie looked up to the woman now stood over her, pleading the woman to help.

"Help me," Evie wheezed, tears running down her face.

"Don't panic," Agnes patted her shoulders again, "Oi! You ratbag's! Get over here and do something useful!" Agnes barked at the pair of Rook's that had descended off the train. The pair quickly leapt to attention clutching their top hats and scurrying forward. Evie looked back down to Jacob. His flesh was a worrying shade of paling grey, beads of sweat were running down his brow, dark hair was sticking to his brow. This wasn't what was supposed to happy, wasn't how London was to treat them. They were here to free it and this is how it repaid them? The Rook's arrived now and both looked shaken, alarmed. Agnes was quick to command them out of their shock and get hold of Jacob and carry him to the train. Evie sat a moment unable to bring herself to lift her legs and carry herself after them. The Rooks vanished into the train with Jacob leaving Evie sat on the platform at Agnes' feet. Agnes propped her hands on her hips and heaved a heavy sigh, muttering something beneath her breath. Evie stared at the hull of the train.

"Come on," Agnes reached out grasping her arm and lifting her off her feet and pulling her toward the train, "Before them Blighters come 'round."

* * *

The train wheezed another elongated sigh and squeal. Wheels hammered against the tracks. Smoke spewed from its chimney. Evie opened her eyes now. She had fallen asleep? In her chair to be exact. A small fire was burning to the right of her in the small fireplace. The train car was stiflingly warm, the windows were closed. How long had she been asleep for? Evie sat and watched the burning flames dancing in the fireplace. A blanket had been thrown around her shoulders, her coat and cape were thrown across her bed leaving her only in her shirt...it was stained..now she had proper chance to look at it. It was filthy. Evie cringed at the sight of it but she couldn't bring herself to dig out another and merely rested back in the seat and pulled the blanket closer around her covering the stained fabric. Like that would help. Perhaps when she lifted the blanket away it would reveal a clean shirt beneath...? Jacob! Evie had been so overwhelmed with exhaustion her mind had wondered. She swung her legs down off the chair and threw the blanket from around her. Standing she twisted around the chair and marched the length of the car. How could she have been so foolish? Forgetful! Her brother had laid in her arms beaten and battered and she had slept?! She strode into the next carriage, this was where all the information they had gathered about the Templars and Blighters were stored. Evie would usually find Jacob here-sprawled on the sofa next to the safe but now...he was not there. Evie reached up brushing the hair back from her eyes. She skipped past two Rooks. Completely bypassing Agnes, who was seated at her desk.

"Miss. Frye!" Agnes leapt from her seat but not quick enough to catch the assassin. Evie skipped into the next carriage. More of the Rooks were gathered again at the bar. Shouldn't they be on the streets ensuring the Blighters didn't return. All spun to look at her as she stormed forward. Andy was not among them now. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Where was Jacob? Agnes was trying to catch pace with her. Calling to her. Evie knew Jacob's carriage was the next one-if he was anywhere he had to be here. Not pausing in her pace Evie brushed past the remaining Rooks and left the carriage entering the next. Her brothers. She stopped now and swept over the carriage with her eyes. There. Jacob was laid in his bed now. Bloodied rags were set to the side atop the dresser at the foot of the bed. His coat and hat were atop the desk against the right hand side of the car. He lay silently. Pale and still...but Evie could see the faint rise and fall of his chest beneath the thick sheets that covered him. She breathed a steady sigh of relief. Slowly stepping forward, her heels muffled against the carpeted floor she approached the bed. Steadily Evie sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her brother. The relief that washed over now was undeniable. Before she had been powerless to control what happened to him-she had no idea where he was or how to help him. Yes he was badly hurt but now she could control the outcome. She could mind and care for him until he was well again and they would return to their normal bickering and conquest of London. Evie reached forward and pulled the edge of the sheets back looking at his bare, bandaged body. Bruising was thick and raw, scrapes and bumps. His ribs were heavily bandaged now. She dared a peek beneath them. Reaching out her fingers brushed the edge of the bandaging only for him to grunt. She quickly sat back and cast a look to his face.

"Jacob?"

"Why do insist on poking?" Jacob's growled.

"I just wanted to check!" Evie snapped in response.

"It will heal a lot quicker without being prodded, you know." Jacob's eyes opened, though his lids remained heavy.

"Right because you did such a good job of it. What did you do to yourself?"

"I cauterized it. So that I could at least get to the station before I bled out."

"Once again you've proven how undeniably wise you are. You'll cause infection doing that!"

"It's not like I had a choice, _dear_ sister."

"Well, _brother,_ you could have not gotten so injured in the first place," Evie hissed. She sat back and folded her arms eyeing him. Jacob's eyes were dull-they didn't have the sparkle they usually held, his face said it all. He didn't want an argument. What he had done had been necessary she knew that..."You worried me..."

"I'm sorry.." Jacob heaved his eyes dropping closed as he inhaled a deep breath.

"Honestly Jacob. We've just begun our conquest of London. I don't need you to tap out now..we have to do this. Together." Evie dropped her folded arms now. Jacob nodded in response his eyes opening again to look at her. He shifted his hand out from beneath the sheets and extended it to set it on her knee, patting it affectionately. Evie looked down to his bruised knuckles before reaching out and taking his hand. "Don't ever do that again. This isn't Crawley Jacob, the people here are dangerous. We need to stay one step ahead at all times. I need you..."

"I know," Jacob nodded.

"Strain is dead," Evie added.

"Dead?"

"I killed him. We own Lambeth borough."

Jacob's eyes ignited slightly, "Ha. That's my sister."

"Don't start-"

"See? The Rooks do their fair share."

"I suppose they do," Evie sighed. She would regret those words. "Oh. I should return this to you.." Evie released his hand and reached up to her neck drawing the small shilling at the end of the tether from around her neck and extending it to Jacob.

"I thought...I thought I'd lost this..." Jacob looked to the small shilling as it was lowered into his hand. He stared at the coin a long moment before his eyes closed. Evie frowned before noticing a small tear run from the corner of his eye...well the less swollen one. He sniffed.

"Jacob..." Evie soothed. Reaching out she closed his fingers around the coin and held his hand firmly. He seemed...broken. In more ways than one. Evie decided she would press no further into how he was feeling-trying to talk with him on a normal day was hard enough, when he was like this...she knew he'd speak in his own time. He quivered trying to remain strong but it wasn't working. Evie clutched his hand tightly before kissing the knuckles, reaching out and brushing the hair back from his face.

"You need to rest Jacob." She sat back now and covered him back over with the sheets, he was cold to the touch. Jacob allowed his body to be covered before glancing back to her, his eyes were raw and vulnerable.

"I owe you Evie."

"Don't be ridiculous. You can return the favour when you're better." Evie smiled before rising from her seat on the bed and striding across to one of the smaller windows of the car. She unlatched it and pushed it open at least allowing some air to snake into the car itself and freshen things up. It smelt stagnant. Looking over her shoulder as the breeze washed over her she looked to her brother who lay still again, his eyes closed and hand still clutching the shilling. He would heal. They would return to their partnership and they would conquer London. Together. Standing tall and squaring her shoulders Evie turned and stepped from the carriage. Now that Jacob was safe she could focus on the mission. On her goal. She could finally attend the Kenway Manor and discover what secrets were there.

 **[[ AUTHORS NOTE: Think that will be about it for this little story...whatever it was really! A bit of brother/sister appreciation for the Frye Twins. I will be taking my time to focus a bit more on other projects at this moment in time, namely my original trilogy of fantasy books which you can check out on facebook Age of Heritage, I will possibly be focusing on my other Assassins Creed story (Valykrie) set in WWII also. In the meantime-thanks all for the support. Don't forget to leave a review if you've enjoyed it I appreciate all and any feedback! Until next time :) ]]**


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